


Body Heat

by Ennaess



Series: Prompted Geraskier One Shots [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Double Penetration, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Huddling For Warmth, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, PWP, Soft and sensual, Threesome - M/M/M, but like in a sweet way, but really he's just everybody-sexual, witcher!sexual Jaskier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:35:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27140500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ennaess/pseuds/Ennaess
Summary: Prompt fill for eskel-and-goat on tumblr: "Soft cute stuff for Eskel/Jaskier/Geralt? Maybe a cold perfect night for cuddling??"In his first week at Kaer Morhen, Jaskier slips and falls into a horse trough filled with ice water. Geralt and Eskel do what they can to bring his temperature back up, and the three of them end up sharing far more than body heat.
Relationships: Eskel/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Prompted Geraskier One Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1963852
Comments: 34
Kudos: 552





	Body Heat

**Author's Note:**

> So, my new fic "Breakable" was supposed to be the fill for this request when I started writing it, but halfway through I realized I'd somehow missed the soft/cute aspect of the prompt--and obviously that fic is exactly the opposite of soft and cute. So, here's Eskel/Jaskier/Geralt take number two!
> 
> (Also I feel like there's already got to be a fic like this in this fandom entitled Body Heat, so if there is, let me know and I'll try to differentiate it by adding a subtitle or something.)

Geralt kicked open the doors to the main hall, clutching Jaskier to his chest. The shivering bard was slung between his arms, dripping frigid water over the well-worn slabs of Kaer Morhen stone.

Eskel, who'd been reading at the communal long table, jumped to his feet. "What happened?"

"He was trying to break the ice covering the horse trough," Geralt said, rushing past the table and the sleeping pallets, making for the roaring fire in the hearth that separated the hall from the kitchens. "Slipped on a cobblestone, fell in. Couldn't get out again."

Jaskier's teeth were chattering, and Geralt's heart was pounding. He knew his bard would be fine. It wasn't as though Jaskier had fallen through the ice on a pond. He hadn't been in the water for more than a minute or two, and he'd never lost his breath, and though most of his winter clothes had soaked through, he'd start to heat up again once he was free of them.

And still, Geralt didn't like seeing him like this.

He hated it whenever Jaskier was in pain, or distress. When a monster got a claw into him, or when an insult from a stranger truly landed. He hated the sadness on his face, the acrid smell of his suffering. Especially when he couldn't make it go away.

At least _this_ problem Geralt knew how to deal with. It would be easy to make this better.

He set Jaskier down on the bearskin before the fire and immediately went to work untying his winter cape from around his neck. Eskel was there a moment later, working on the front of his vest.

The two witchers stripped him quickly, efficiently, and Jaskier said nothing while they worked. His hand came up once to try to help, but it was clear his fingertips were too numb to find purchase, so Geralt batted his hand away.

When Geralt had invited Jaskier to come to Kaer Morhen for the winter, he'd promised him safety and relaxation, with a side of mundane chores.

Who knew those mundane chores would steal away that safety and relaxation within the first week?

Eskel set Jaskier's boots neatly in front of the fire to dry, and Geralt laid out his trousers nearby, before sitting heavily beside his bard again.

Jaskier was still shivering, hugging himself.

Even his smallclothes had been soaked through.

"Braies, too," Geralt said softly, though it made his mouth go dry.

Jaskier stilled for a moment, looked up and met his gaze before nodding and hooking his thumbs into the hemline.

Geralt swallowed thickly and looked away, feeling guilty.

This was no time to ogle. To take in the lithe lines of Jaskier's body, the suppleness of his skin, the thick thatch of hair on his chest. This was no time to imagine sucking on his nipples or dipping a tongue between his thighs.

Eskel shuffled back to them, began unlacing his own gambeson. "You too, off," he said, gesturing at Geralt.

"What?"

"Best way to bring his temperature back up is body heat." He shrugged out of his top layer, began unbuttoning his trousers. "Remember when Lambert got knocked unconscious by that fiend? Was out all night in snow?"

A wet _slap_ indicated Jaskier had thrown his soaked braies aside. Geralt looked to him once more, was met with wide, blue eyes. The bard had his knees drawn up to his chest, was hugging them close.

"We need to hold him," Eskel continued, making quick work of the rest of his clothes. "I'll grab us some furs." He hurried over to the sleeping pallets.

Still staring into Jaskier's eyes, Geralt slowly started to undo the clasps on his winter coat. Jaskier's gaze immediately fell to his fingers, a slightly startled expression on his face. The bard watched every move closely, bit his lip and took a deep breath when Geralt shrugged off the coat and started unlacing his linen shirt.

"Is this alright?" Geralt asked softly.

He'd brought Jaskier here aiming to finally telling him everything--how he felt, how he wanted him.

And he was fairly sure Jaskier had already guessed his intentions, what with the way their initial conversation had gone.

"You expect me to go a whole winter without _company_?" the bard had asked incredulously, sitting across from him at a table in The Alchemy.

"No," Geralt had replied, perhaps too quickly.

"But you said the keep gets snowed in. The roads impassable. No one in or out for months."

Geralt dropped his gaze into his ale, unable to meet Jaskier's eyes. "Yes."

He could feel Jaskier scrutinizing him. "And you lot don't, say, hire a gaggle of lovely lady courtesans to spend the winter with you?"

Geralt snorted. "No. Your only options will be _male_ company, but you'll have it, if you want it."

Jaskier had slapped a palm on the table, and Geralt glanced up just in time to see a wide smile break out across his face. "You fuck _each other_ ," he declared boldly. "You and the other witchers, you hole yourselves away for the winter, and what, have a season-long orgy?"

"It's not like that," Geralt said.

Jaskier had paused for half a beat before declaring, softly, "Pity."

Yes, Geralt had _hoped_ to find himself naked and pressed against Jaskier this winter, but he thought there'd be _talking_ first. Admissions, negotiations. More heated desire and less...incidental frigidness.

Now, Geralt pulled his shirt over his head--leaving his chest bare--and Jaskier immediately looked away. The bard still hadn't answered him, but perhaps his averted gaze was answer enough.

Still, Geralt tried again. "Is this okay?"

Jaskier didn't have to want Geralt the same way he wanted him. The witcher hadn't brought him here to corner or coerce him. Just to be with him. Geralt would still want to spend the winter with him, would still care for him, even if he didn't...if he didn't _feel_...

If Jaskier didn't want Geralt to be naked with him, even for warmth, that was fine. Geralt wouldn't push.

He'd simply _hoped_...

Perhaps it was stupid to hope. Jaskier could have--and _had_ had--whoever he wanted. That he might want Geralt, too, after all these years of platonic companionship, was perhaps nothing more than a silly dream. A dumb romantic notion.

"We don't have to," Geralt reassured him, "It will take longer, but the furs will--"

"No," Jaskier said swiftly, swaying toward Geralt. "No, please. I'm so cold."

Eskel returned, dragging two large furs behind him. Geralt stood, working himself out of his boots, then his trousers. He glanced at Eskel--he'd left his smallclothes on. Geralt followed suit.

Now nearly-naked, he went to his knees beside Jaskier, unsure of how to proceed.

Without a word, Eskel dropped the furs and bent down behind Jaskier, scooping him up by the armpits.

"Hey, wha--" Jaskier started to protest.

Before either of them knew what was happening, Eskel was manhandling Jaskier onto Geralt's lap, pushing them chest-to-chest, with Jaskier's legs spread over Geralt's thighs. "Hold him tight," he said, and both Jaskier and Geralt complied, throwing their arms around each other.

Geralt's skin prickled--both with how cold Jaskier was to the touch, and with how he was simply _touching him_. They were pressed flush to one another, and suddenly Jaskier was shaking in a way that felt more like he was trembling from fear than shivering from cold. The bard hooked his chin over Geralt's neck, and Geralt turned his face into Jaskier's hair, mumbling soothingly--trying not to nuzzle, trying not to breathe him in and revel in having his familiar scent so close.

Working swiftly--taking on the role of ever-deliberate caretaker--Eskel arranged the furs around the pair before sliding beneath himself. He laid himself over Jaskier's back, face turned away from Geralt, cheek pressed into Jaskier's shoulder. His hands bypassed Jaskier and came down on Geralt's waist.

The White Wolf tried not to writhe when Eskel's thumbs started to rub small circles into his sides.

"How's that, songbird?" Eskel asked.

"Good," Jaskier replied, voice soft, shaking.

His hair was slightly wet, and Geralt parted his lips, letting his hot breath roll over it.

The intense chill was already disappearing. Geralt could feel Jaskier soaking up their body heat. After a few moments, the bard seemed to melt into them, sighing softly.

"Haven't heard you this quiet since you stepped foot in the keep," Eskel teased.

"He's never been a fan of the cold," Geralt said into Jaskier's hair.

Jaskier gave an extra-strong shudder against him, squirming closer, hooking his legs around Geralt's back, shifting his position in such a way as to--

Oh.

Now Jaskier's naked cock--soft, but still sizable--was pinned against Geralt's lower belly. The witcher tried not to jerk away out of surprise--instead over-compensating by holding himself perfectly still. Holding his breath, even.

In a move that was likely supposed to be reassuring, Eskel slid his hands from Geralt's waist to his lower back, petting lightly. But instead of setting Geralt at ease, it reminded him of all those times Eskel had touched him _slow_ and _soft_ and _sensual_ because he _wanted_ him.

Geralt glanced down at Eskel's head, just barely peeking out from beneath the furs, and had the sudden urge to pet him back. Carefully, he snaked one arm out from around Jaskier and brought his hand up to stroke through Eskel's hair. 

With the combination of Jaskier--naked in his arms--and Eskel--nearly-naked and petting him--it wasn't long before Geralt's cock took an inappropriate interest in the proceedings. Sucking in a deep breath, he willed it to behave, but instantly realized his mistake. He'd inhaled a lungful of Jaskier's delicious scent, which only served to stoke the fire rising in his belly.

All three of them were warm and safe and close. The hair on Jaskier's chest was coarse, but his skin was soft, and he let out little huffs of breath teasingly close to Geralt's ear. Eskel's fingers were magic, touching him gently, just the way he liked. And Geralt's cock wasn't the only one plumping at the proximity of all this warm, bare skin.

The bulge digging into his abdomen grew, and he said nothing.

Jaskier said nothing.

Eskel didn't even _know_.

Geralt wanted to pull on his brother's hair, to make him meet his gaze so he could silently ask what to do, how to handle... _this_.

But he knew any little shift would cause friction, would make Jaskier's now blood-hot cock drag against his skin.

It was Jaskier who moved first, hiding his face in Geralt's neck. The bard didn't yank his hips away, didn't push Geralt back. Instead, his lips parted against Geralt's skin, and the witcher anticipated an apology--perhaps a grumbled _sorry_ rolling off his tongue.

Instead, he let out a breathy little moan. His hips _bucked_ , and all three of them hissed.

Eskel made as if to pull away. "Sorry, I didn't mean--"

"Don't move," Jaskier ordered.

Eskel stilled, then tilted his face up, met Geralt's gaze. Both witchers breathed deeply, in tandem, openly scenting the air. There was no mistaking the heavy scent of arousal. The air was rapidly becoming thick with it, which could only mean it was coming from all three of them.

And then Geralt realized: Eskel's cock had to be jabbing into Jaskier's backside, perhaps right up the cleft of his arse.

"Don't move," Jaskier said again, voice gone dreamy, decadent. He dropped himself lower on Geralt's lap, until he met the unmistakable jut of Geralt's cock, then froze.

The While Wolf gasped. His dick throbbed, _jumped,_ with the heavy beating of his heart. He gritted his teeth, hoping Jaskier would, at the very least, forgive him.

If his bard just wanted Eskel, and not him, that was fine.

It was.

It was _fine_.

No longer shivering, Jaskier pushed himself up, just far away from Geralt's chest to shift between the witchers, to capture Geralt's gaze. Geralt had a hard time meeting his eyes--fearing what he might see there--but made himself look nonetheless.

He didn't see irritation, or distaste, or even a wry jest poised on Jaskier's lips.

And, thank the gods, there was no _pity_ in his eyes.

His gaze was open, vulnerable. "Is this what you meant?" Jaskier asked softly, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

Geralt couldn't stop himself from tracking Jaskier's tongue, from staring at his wet mouth. He furrowed his brow--unsure what Jaskier was talking about.

One of Jaskier's hands came up to cup his cheek, to run a thumb over the seam of his lips, and it was Geralt's turn to shiver. "When you said I could have company here, if I wanted it," Jaskier clarified. "Did you mean I could have _you too_?"

Geralt's chest swelled. He closed his eyes, tilted into Jaskier's touch. The word caught in his throat, so he simply nodded his affirmation.

Jaskier's thumb moved away, was replaced by soft lips. A gentle kiss.

Geralt's eyes flew open.

He was so surprised, he forgot to kiss back.

But Jaskier wasn't offended. He leaned away again, smiling warmly.

And then Eskel was shifting, standing up, clearly making to leave them be--

"Didn’t I tell you not to move?" Jaskier asked, faux irritation in his voice.

"You and Geralt..." he started, as though that were some kind of explanation.

"I'm rather enjoying being the center of a witcher sandwich, so if you don't mind bringing your gorgeous self back here this instant, that would be delightful. Oh, but you can lose the braies first."

Eskel and Geralt shared a look, both sets of eyebrows shooting up.

"Should I...um...grab some oil? Since I'm up?" Eskel chanced.

"Only if you want to fuck me," Jaskier said with a shrug.

The eyebrows on both witchers shot _higher_.

"Oil it is, then," Eskel declared, dashing off toward the kitchen.

"Should toss you in a tub of ice water more often," Geralt growled, curling both arms tighter around his bard.

"There are easier ways to get me naked in your lap," Jaskier assured him. "You could have simply tried _asking_ , for one."

"I--"

Jaskier cut him off with a kiss.

Geralt was no less surprised by this kiss than the first, but recovered much more quickly. He slid one hand up the back of Jaskier's neck, squeezing firmly, before coaxing the bard's lips apart with his own.

In retaliation, Jaskier ground down on his lap, putting brilliant pressure on Geralt's cock while smearing the wet head of his own across the witcher's abdomen.

Geralt broke the kiss with a heated gasp.

"You didn't have to bring me all this way to get me into bed, you know," Jaskier said against his lips, tongue darting out lightly, teasingly, as he continued to rub himself against Geralt. "You could have had me whenever you wanted. In The Alchemy, the night you invited me--" He rolled his hips pointedly into Geralt's. "In that cave outside Wolven Glade, when we were trapped by the wyvern--" He ducked his head to nip at Geralt's jaw. "Fuck, you could have had me in that gods-damned bog you made us spend three nights in when you were hunting that water hag." He moved lower, sucking a bruise into Geralt's neck.

"I wanted--" Geralt gasped as Jaskier's teeth scraped his skin. "I wanted to bring you somewhere safe, quiet. So we could...we could talk..."

Jaskier laughed lightly. "You? Want to _talk_?"

Geralt huffed a little laugh of his own.

"What's there to talk about?" Jaskier asked, voice breathy. "Gods, Geralt, if I'd known you wanted me--" He bit down, _hard_ , on Geralt's throat.

Geralt cried out, and Jaskier made to jerk away--perhaps fearing he'd gone too far--but Geralt held him close, carded his fingers through his hair, as they rocked together gently.

"I want you to know _all_ the ways in which I want you," Geralt said softly. "All the ways in which I need you."

Jaskier leaned up again, and Geralt didn't stop stroking his hair as they looked at each other. "Oh?"

Eskel returned then, smallclothes gone, an ampule of oil in-hand. He threw back the furs for a moment, just long enough to snuggle up behind Jaskier again.

"It's not just about sex," Geralt said. He had no qualms about Eskel being there while he confessed everything to Jaskier. They'd shared much, over many years. Geralt had told his brothers seasons and seasons ago how he felt about his bard; his words would come as no surprise. "Not just about finding some release on the Path."

"'M gonna start, songbird, while you two talk," Eskel mumbled against Jaskier's back, hand curving over the bard's hip. "That alright?"

"Please," Jaskier gasped, thrusting back against the darker-haired witcher. "What are you saying, Geralt?"

Eskel poured some of the oil into his hand, then drizzled a dollop down Jaskier's cleft before spreading the bard's cheeks and dipping a finger against his entrance. Jaskier rocked against it, welcoming it, and Geralt smoothed a hand down Jaskier's spine, reveling in the way it bowed as he sought out more from Eskel.

"I'm saying... I miss you, when we're apart. In the winter, yes, but even when it's just a week or two. A _day_ or two."

Eskel pressed a finger forward, _in_. Jaskier jerked in Geralt's arms, and the witcher could feel the bard's heart pounding beneath his ribs.

"And when you find someone to spend the night with," Geralt continued, " _Without_ me--I..." He swallowed thickly, feeling guilty. "There's a darkness that curls up in my chest and won't leave until you bathe and stop smelling of someone else. I-- I get..."

"Jealous?" Jaskier asked.

"Terribly," he admitted. "I always want them to be me. When you wink at someone in a crowd or touch their arm, flash a smile--I want it all to be for me."

"Oh, Geralt, so much of it _has_ been for you. I just never--" Jaskier thrust his hips back firmly, taking a second finger from Eskel. "--never realized..." He bit his lip as Eskel began scissoring his fingers inside him.

"I want you--" Geralt kissed him softly-- "To be with me. Really _with_ me. And I need to know if you feel the same. Do you?"

"Well, that depends," Jaskier said, wriggling as Eskel teased him with a third finger.

"On what?" Geralt asked.

"Are you _really_ proclaiming your love for me while your brother fingers me open?"

Geralt pursed his lips, expression serious. "Would seem so."

"Good." Jaskier gasped as Eskel thrust all three fingers in up to the third knuckle. "Just making sure we're all on the same page." He threaded his fingers around the nape of Geralt's neck, kissed him deeply. "Of course I love you," he whispered against his mouth. "I've always loved you."

Geralt's chest went tight, and he couldn't help the subtle grin that broke out across his face.

"Do me a favor, love?" Jaskier asked softly.

"Anything."

"Kiss Eskel for me?"

Geralt purred appreciatively.

Eskel looked up from his ministrations, then, propping his chin on Jaskier's shoulder and blinking up at Geralt. He was beautiful as ever--as he was when they were teenagers coming into their own. Though, in his youth he'd been soft, and now he was rugged. The scars on his face were badges of courage, reminders of his ability to survive.

Just as all their scars were.

Geralt shared a heated stare with him, let the tension build before he plunged forward to kiss him over Jaskier's shoulder. He let his tongue delve deep before pulling back, leaving one last chaste peck on his lips.

"Mmm," Jaskier hummed, rutting his cock into Geralt's belly. "Beautiful."

Eskel slung an arm around Jaskier's middle, pulled him tight against his hips. "Can I fuck your bard?" he asked Geralt.

"He's still his own man," Geralt replied with a chuckle. "Ask him."

Eskel turned his head, tugged lightly at Jaskier's earlobe with his teeth. "Want me to fuck you in Geralt's lap?"

"Yes," Jaskier said hurriedly, "Yes _please_."

Eskel shifted closer, brought his knees up over Geralt's while Jaskier kept his arms curled around Geralt's neck.

Eskel nuzzled Jaskier, whispered, "Kiss him good for me while I fill you up."

Jaskier complied, leaning forward to snake his tongue sensually into Geralt's mouth.

Geralt hummed, pleased. Jaskier tasted like the winterberry tarts they'd had for breakfast. Buttery, sweet.

The bard gasped as Eskel thrust home, and Geralt groaned deep in his chest.

Eskel was careful, gentle, rocking up into Jaskier with precision, sheathing himself a millimeter at a time. The deeper he went, the more Jaskier's back bowed. Geralt bit his lip as his bard tossed his head back in ecstasy, eyelashes fluttering.

Gods, he was gorgeous.

"You still with us, little bird?" Eskel asked when he was fully seated inside.

Jaskier reached one arm back, curling his fingers in Eskel's hair, leaning to affectionately bump their heads together. "'S good," he mumbled.

"Didn't take much to work you open," Eskel said, voice both heated and amused. "You play like this often?"

"Nearly every chance he gets," Geralt teased.

"And how many more chances would I have had on the way here, dear witcher, if you'd--?"

Geralt shut him up by slipping a thumb between his teeth. Jaskier immediately clamped his lips around it, sucking. "No more missed opportunities," Geralt promised him quietly.

Eskel rolled his hips lightly, barely pulling out before grinding back in. It was unhurried, lazy even. They had nowhere to be, no reason to rush. The thee of them could draw out their pleasure as long as they liked.

The others were out hunting--Vesemir, Lambert, Aiden and Coën all. And if the trio weren't finished by the time they returned, so be it. The others could be counted on not to interrupt.

"You know," Eskel said slyly. "It'll be snug, but I think there's room in here for one more."

Geralt's breath caught, and Jaskier whimpered around Geralt's thumb.

"What do you think, _Julian_?" Eskel let Jaskier's given name roll off his tongue like honey. "Want us both?"

Geralt searched Jaskier's eyes. He didn't want him to feel pressured, like he needed to acquiesce to their whims.

But the bard's lips parted in a wide, mischievous smile, teeth biting down on Geralt's thumb as he grinned. He let the digit fall from his lips, then said over his shoulder, "Eskel, dear, we’ve only just met, but I love the way your mind works. I could fall for you so easily."

"Is that a yes?" Geralt asked, more gruffly--more desperately--than he'd meant to.

Jaskier turned back to him, still smiling brightly. "That's a yes," he said definitively.

A rich, satisfied feeling--akin to warm chocolate--swirled in Geralt's stomach. Eagerly, he moved to slip his arms beneath Jaskier's thighs.

While Geralt held Jaskier slightly aloft, Eskel's thick fingers took hold of Geralt's cock, pulling it out of his smallclothes and angling him into position. "You're sure?" Geralt asked Jaskier as the head of his dick bumped against the bard's entrance, where he and Eskel were still joined.

"My sweet wolf," Jaskier said, "It's not as though I've never taken two pricks at once before." He threw in a wink for good measure.

Geralt growled hungrily at that, thrusting his hips up, the crown of his cock just breaching his bard.

They all gasped in tandem.

 _Fuck_. "Tight fit" was an understatement. The pressure on Geralt's dick was heavenly. Hot slickness engulfed him, and he could feel Eskel's cock throbbing against his own.

Geralt ran a supportive hand up the back of Jaskier's neck, still holding him up with the other. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Jaskier insisted, voice airy. "Yeah."

They kissed slowly, deeply, as Geralt worked his way inside. "You feel _so good_ ," he groaned once he was as far as the angle would allow.

"Not so bad yourselves," Jaskier answered cheekily.

Eskel had climbed further into Geralt's lap to facilitate the closeness their entanglement required, and now he kissed the backs of Geralt's knuckles where he gripped Jaskier, flicked his tongue between the seams of his fingers, and lazily nuzzled into Jaskier's hair. After a moment, Geralt pulled Eskel to him over Jaskier's shoulder. They kissed hungrily. And when Jaskier whimpered-- _needy_ \--Eskel turned to mouth at the bard's jaw.

No one was in any hurry to come. The furs were too soft, the fire was too cozy. They tangled together like that for a long while, kissing languidly, holding one another close, just enjoying each other's presence, the fullness and the tightness. The warmth and the affection.

When Jaskier eventually began rocking his hips, it was idle and sensual. The roll of his body between them was luxurious, erotic.

Everything about their joining was decadent and soft.

And slow.

Achingly _slow_.

They drew out every little bit of pleasure, making it last. Making sure every sensation was thoroughly felt, completely appreciated. 

Geralt reached between his and Jaskier's bellies to palm Jaskier's cock. Rigid, leaking, it was like a brand against the witcher's skin, searing Jaskier's desire into his memory.

There was no saying how much time passed as they all moved together, moaning and gasping softly.

Hours, it seemed.

When Eskel came, it was hard and deep inside Jaskier, and he didn't pull out after. He let the bard continue to take his pleasure--they both did. Whatever Jaskier wanted, the witchers gave him.

"You too, inside me," he begged, breath hot against Geralt's cheek. "Then I want to come in your mouth."

The promise of Jaskier's cock between his lips sent Geralt over the edge--tumbling, floating. His orgasm was a deep, rolling sort of thing. Long and thorough, like distant thunder. It reverberated through his limbs, cresting in his lower belly, making him spill in long, hot gushes.

Jaskier held him through it, and Eskel trailed his fingers soothingly up and down Geralt's sides.

When he was done trembling, Eskel slowly pulled away, and then Geralt tipped Jaskier back, laying him gently on the bearskin, head propped in Eskel's lap. The darker-haired witcher lazily stroked his fingers through the bard's fringe as Geralt settled himself between Jaskier's legs, mouth level with his pelvis.

Jaskier was close, that was easy to tell by the tautness of his sac and the firmness of his cock. Geralt experimentally pressed his tongue to the underside and the bard gasped, cock flexing, pulse pounding firmly enough that Geralt could feel the beat against his tongue.

He didn't want to tease Jaskier. There would be plenty of opportunities for that later. Right now he just wanted to pique his pleasure. To send Jaskier spiraling into bliss in the same way he'd already sent his witchers spiraling.

Geralt lowered his mouth over the plump silkiness of Jaskier's prick, taking him to the hilt. He tasted musky and clean, and he smelled of lust and contentment. Geralt sucked firmly, with purpose. Soon, slick bitterness fanned out over his tongue, and Jaskier writhed, tossing his head in Eskel's lap.

For a long few moments, Geralt held Jaskier's cock in his mouth, keeping it warm as the bard's breathing evened out.

Then he crawled up beside his bard, arranging him so that he could spoon behind him, head equally pillowed on Eskel's legs.

"See," Eskel purred softly, "I told you body heat was the best way to warm him up."

Jaskier chuckled fondly while Geralt sleepily _hmm_ ed his agreement.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments are <3


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